“You seem to have forgotten that Major Stultz’s proposal to me was made after a two-days’ acquaintance. I refused him because I did not like him, and I knew it could give no pain to a man whose mere object was to have a wife to manage his household concerns. It never occurred to me that he would turn, half an hour afterward, to my sister, and that my vehemence would only serve to make him more cautious, and her fate more certain. You know he applied to my step-mother, and wrote to my father. The answer was a letter, full of reproaches to me, and of entreaties and commendations to Crescenz, which, to her yielding nature, were irresistible; and I do believe, if given time, and were you not here, she might be reconciled to her lot. However little Major Stultz may have cared for Crescenz at first, it is impossible for him to remain long indifferent to so much goodness. I think he already begins to be sincerely attached to her; in time, gratitude and habit will enable her to return his affection, and they may, eventually, be very happy. At all events, my sister’s fate is now irrevocable.”
She paused for a moment, and then added: “Oh, Mr. Hamilton, be generous! Spare her! Leave Munich—or, at least, leave our house——”
“You require a great and most unnecessary sacrifice on my part, mademoiselle. Suppose I were able to convince you that my absence is unnecessary?”
“You cannot do so,” replied Hildegarde, with a slightly impatient gesture.
“I have listened to you with patience and expect in my turn to be heard,” said Hamilton, handing her a chair, which, however, she indignantly refused.
“Your sister has most probably told you——” he began.
“My sister has told me nothing,” cried Hildegarde, interrupting him angrily, “excepting that you said you could not marry, or even think of marriage! The conversation which preceded such a declaration I can imagine!”
“Indeed! It seems you have had experience in these matters.”
Hildegarde bit her lip and tapped with her foot on the floor, while Hamilton smiled provokingly, and watched her varying colour.
“Ungenerous, unfeeling Englishman!” she cried at length; “I—I see you are trying to put me into a passion—but I am not angry, not in the least, I assure you,” she said, seating herself on the chair he had before placed for her. “You said,” she added in a constrained voice, “you said you were able to convince me——”